


worlds are built for two

by synergenic (Losseflame)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Finn wants to try being tied up, M/M, Mild D/s, Poe is willing to facilitate that, Porn with Feelings, explicit but relatively softcore D/s elements, there should be a warning for Poe's filthy mouth, they have Feelings about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6750919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losseflame/pseuds/synergenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This okay?" Poe asks again, an anxious thing straining his expression and drawing his shoulders tight and Finn breathes in, out, tugs on his wrists to feel the rope binding him to the bedframe against his skin.  He considers the slow thud of his heart in his chest, the easy lassitude in his muscles, the trust he feels as something tangible under his breastbone.  It's still thin-skinned and fragile, frail the way any newborn is, but it's there and Finn is…  Yeah, he's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	worlds are built for two

"This okay?" Poe asks again, an anxious thing straining his expression and drawing his shoulders tight and Finn breathes in, out, tugs on his wrists to feel the rope binding him to the bedframe against his skin. He considers the slow thud of his heart in his chest, the easy lassitude in his muscles, the trust he feels as something tangible under his breastbone. It's still thin-skinned and fragile, frail the way any newborn is, but it's there and Finn is… Yeah, he's okay.

"Yeah," he says, his voice coming out quiet and subdued in a tone that isn't entirely purposeful. There's just something to it, how Poe straddling him pushes him down into the mattress, how exposed he is with his hands tied above his head. It should leave him scraped raw and strung tight with paranoia, and if they'd tried this even a few weeks ago it might have, but now - it's the sense of security, he thinks, that comes with freefalling through the sureness that Poe won't _hurt_ him. That comes with proving it to himself. "I'm good."

Poe shudders through a deep, desperate inhalation. "Good. Yeah. Okay. Good." He nods to himself, scrap of soft fabric crumpled in a fist he keeps tucked close to his stomach. For a moment, Finn wants to call it off, free his hands and gather Poe up and kiss him till he stops looking so _uncertain_. And then Poe shifts, and the moment passes, because he's _hard_ , Poe is so hard just from Finn letting him do this. Tie Finn up. He knows what Poe likes, has felt it in the way Poe boxes him into corners and growls into Finn's mouth when he's too touch-drunk to _worry_ so much, and. Finn thinks he might like it, too. He thinks he could, if they try.

"Is that your security blanket or a blindfold?" Finn asks, nodding to the fabric Poe grips with white knuckles, and it takes so much _energy_ , to push past the soft linen sensation wrapping slowly around his senses and hitch his voice into something Poe laughingly calls 'sass' when he uses it in regular conversation. This is not, Finn acknowledges, quite what one would call regular conversation, but the familiar tone makes Poe's lips quirk up into a smirk, some of the tense nervousness he carries bleeding out of his posture.

"What fuckin' attitude," Poe murmurs, gripping Finn's jaw in one callused hand and giving it a small, slight shake as he leans down.

"You should shut me up, then," Finn replies, and he knows what he's doing, saying that, what instinct under Poe's skin he's prodding at with clumsy, curious jabs. Poe's breath hitches and something heady broadens his shoulders before they're kissing, Poe's weight bearing down on him and Poe's palm scorching Finn's skin as he cradles Finn's cheek, sweeps over his neck and scratches through his hair. The nails on Finn's scalp sends small, bright-white bursts of heat zinging through his nerves, transfiguring into something else as they travel and settling in his belly as lust, and Poe draws back, just a little. The wet sound their lips make when he does prompts a reactionary jerk in the base of Finn's gut, an involuntary clench of his fingers, and his mouth feels stung and swollen, an ache in his jaw because they've been kissing for ages, had been grappling with each other for an hour before Finn had hesitantly reminded Poe of their goal for the evening.

"Can I," Poe mumbles, close enough that Finn feels the words slide on his skin. A shift overtop of him, and then the knuckles of Poe's other hand brush up against Finn's chin gently. The edge of the blindfold Poe is holding trails over his neck.

"Yeah," Finn breathes, and it's so _simple_ , such an innocuous scrap of fabric shouldn't be able to hold so much _significance_. But Poe draws back to give himself room to manoeuvre, holds the blindfold out to place it over Finn's eyes, and something swells in the marrow of Finn's bones, filling him up and freezing his lungs.

Poe stops. Poe pulls away, props himself up and leans over Finn to meet his eyes. It's inescapable, now, because even when Finn turns his head to the side, Poe just grips his chin and tugs till Finn looks at him again.

"We don't have to use the blindfold," Poe says, soft. He touches the rope wrapped around Finn's wrists, and the reminder of this vulnerability sends a sudden jolt of icyhot awareness down Finn's spine. His skin prickles. Every sound and every touch sharpens in one immediate beat. "This is a lot. It's fine if this is all you can handle, right now, I know you wanted both but if - this a lot. This can be _enough_ , for today."

"No," Finn snaps, and it's sudden, the wave of helpless frustration, of something that borders on anger. His tongue feels thick and his thoughts feel sluggish and he just - "No, can you just - I want -"

His words trail off into an incoherent tangle of noise in his throat, because he _feels_ it, this large and undulating surge of emotion, multi-faceted and complex in its structure and depth, feels it strong and intense and _always_ , but he doesn't have the words. To understand it, to explain it to others. And usually he doesn't have to try, with Poe, when he's doing this with Poe, usually Poe has the words he doesn't, and maybe he just wants Poe to peel him open and dive inside and smooth out the edges of himself, maybe he just wants Poe to _have_ him, for a little bit, maybe, maybe - "Can you just _do_ it, I just want you to _do_ it."

"Why?" And Poe is serious, he's never serious like this when they fuck but he is now, eyes deep and grave and searching where they latch onto Finn's. " _Why_ do you want me to do it?"

A strangled whine squeezes out from between his teeth before he can bite it back, and Finn's body heaves against the rope that binds him, one quick yank that forces him to settle back onto the mattress. Because there's no slack, no give, no strain, of course not, Poe knows how to tie a knot well enough that not even Finn with his Stormtrooper build can escape it without help.

Poe's expression tightens, his fingers twitch like he's thinking of reaching out and undoing his work and Finn shakes his head. It might be a plea and it might be a curse and it's probably both, the hard mass caught between his vocal chords, and Finn's heartbeat is quick, his muscles are tense, the trust under his breastbone snarled and ridged.

"You're not going to hurt me." He gropes clumsily for the right way to frame his thoughts, and Poe's fingers twitch again before he strokes Finn's chest, rough palms on bare skin. His eyes have widened and his mouth is downturned, that bruised look that Finn _hates_ , hates more when it's his fault.

"Never. I'd never hurt you," Poe states, like it's that easy, like he doesn't fly missions he only has half a chance of coming back from, like _this_ is the only way he could hurt Finn.

"I need to _know_ that." Finn has to wrestle with the words in his chest, force the jagged shapes of them up and out and he half expects to see them floating in the air, after, made all slick and shiny with his insides. "I need to _know_ you won't hurt me."

Hands stilling on Finn's chest, Poe breathes in, then out, deep and slow like he does whenever Finn says something that strikes him. "Is this what you need? To know?"

"It's the only thing that's mine," and his voice breaks, and it's _humiliating_ , the crack between syllables that skips awkwardly over his tongue. It doesn't even make sense, what he said; he has lots of things, now, the jacket and a room and a steadily growing collection of stuff in said room. His breath catches nastily in his lungs anyway, a thick ugly sound that precedes something uglier.

Turning his head to the side, Finn tucks his face into his arm, breath wheezing into a whine as he tightens his throat and swallows and swallows and bites his lip till the cacophonous surge clamouring in his chest starves away. He waits for Poe to ask him what he means. He waits for Poe to untie the rope and withdraw and murmur sweet reassuring words about next time, later, when he thinks Finn is ready.

Gently, very gently, Poe wriggles his fingers between Finn's arm and his jaw, cups Finn's cheek in his palm and strokes the fragile skin beneath Finn's eye. He doesn't comment on the wet he wipes away as he does, just presses his forehead to Finn's and pauses there to breath. It's like they're passing air back and forth between them, Finn decides after a moment.

"You need to promise me that you'll safeword. If you need to," Poe murmurs. "I won't be upset, I won't take it as a rejection. I just. If we're doing this, I need to know that you'll safeword if you need to."

And a large billowing thing groundswells in Finn's chest, spreading out under his solar plexus as a ripple of warmth. His breath catches for a different reason, now. "Yeah. If I need to."

He feels the nod more than he sees it, and then Poe sits back, picks up the blindfold he'd dropped onto the mattress. One hand scrubs through his hair, a physical tick Finn has categorized as a sign of nervousness. 

Poe is nervous, Finn thinks with a flutter under his diaphragm, because he wants to give Finn what he wants, because he doesn't want to cross any boundaries while doing so.

"Okay. Fuck. Okay." Poe clears his throat, resettles his weight over Finn's hips, and Finn had forgotten about the heat pooled in his loins until now. It's still secondary to the weight of the rope around his wrists, the heady sting of anticipation in his blood that sharpens when he sees Poe smooth the blindfold out, but he remembers all the same, his hips rocking up into the ache. The corner of Poe's mouth ticks up, and he meets Finn's eyes, deliberately grinds back into the movement. "You ready, babe?"

Finn nods, and Poe nods back, slowly reaching out with the blindfold pulled taunt between his hands. "Close your eyes, sweetheart, okay?"

It's an easy thing to do, close his eyes and keep from flinching when the cool cloth settles over his lids, but Poe makes a pleased, warm, _possessive_ noise when he does. "You're doing so good for me already, Finn, you're always so good for me. This too tight?" He taps the knot he's tied, checking with quick fingertips if he's caught any of Finn's hair.

"No," Finn says, and it's - he can't _see_. That's the point, that's what he _wants_ , and yet a small section of flesh, sequestered in the base of his belly, coils tight then tighter till it's close to tearing. The rest of him, curiously, incongruously, unwinds into that linen-soft dreamy lassitude, a hypersensitivity sweeping over his skin as the gentle rhythm of Poe's breath and the rustle of his clothes and the shift of his movement increase in magnitude.

Then Poe settles, hands warm where they hover over Finn's heartbeat. "…can I get a colour?" he asks, and gradually Finn realizes that several minutes have passed and all he's done is breath open-mouthed and, every so often, test the strength of the rope with slow, deliberate pulls that roll through his body like empyrean storms.

"…green," Finn mumbles, lips slack and hard to locate. "I - everything's fuzzy," he concludes after several false starts, trying and failing to find a better word to describe the sensation diffusing through him.

Another shift, Poe's knees on either side of his ribs making momentary contact as Poe adjusts himself. "That can happen sometimes," Poe murmurs all soothing, and it sounds as if it's more for himself than Finn. The reassurance. "This can get intense. Especially someone's first time trying something."

Definitely for himself.

"M'okay," Finn sighs before he tilts his chin up, asking without asking and Poe's breath shudders loud and carnal as he curls over Finn and kisses him. It's the rasp and snag of Poe's stubble on Finn's cheeks, the slick interlocking of lips as Poe angles himself closer and presses his tongue to the open seam of Finn's mouth with a quiet, questioning noise. And Finn can feel all of him, from where his tongue is tracing the contours of Finn's teeth to the soft flesh of their stomachs touching to the hard hot bulge grinding against his own, Poe's thighs bracketing Finn's waist as he moves with steady rhythmical pressure. Finn's moan sounds louder than the hum in his throat would suggest. "Poe."

"Finn," Poe responds, scraping his teeth over the curve of Finn's chin and biting at the tender, thin-skinned flesh beneath. Finn wonders if Poe can taste his pulse. He'd never felt each nerve as acutely as he does now, feels the slight strain on his shoulders and the splay of his fingers and most of all feels Poe, body-weight and body-warmth and skin scattered with fine hair that scratches the smoothness of his own. Their nipples brush as Poe rocks into him, and something so small shouldn't be so _sensitive_ but it makes the air in Finn's throat catch and double over on itself raggedly. "Fuck, babe, tell me this is okay, tell me I can -"

"Please," Finn gasps as Poe runs a hand over his chest to thumb at a nipple once, twice when it makes Finn's hips jerk, while his other reaches up and latches onto Finn's grasping fingers. He squeezes Finn's hand, lets Finn grip and pant before he slides down and grabs Finn's wrists, his wrists that are bound in rope, leaving him all open and vulnerable and Finn shudders when Poe tugs, gently. Like he's reminding himself. "Please, Poe -"

"I want to fuck you," Poe murmurs. It's deliberate, how he made it a statement instead of a question, and that's a hot flare blazing through Finn's blood, coiling in the twitch of his cock and ending in a syrupy rush of precum he _feels_ as it seeps from the blood-swollen head. The sheets stick itchy to his back when he tries to surge up, tries blindly to kiss Poe again, and it's the rope that keeps him down but it's also Poe's hand, spread wide over the hollow of his throat. "Just stay there for me, darling, just let me take care of you."

Finn's breath judders in his chest, and the pressure is so slight it is almost only the weight of Poe's flesh, and the touch reverberates through the whole of his body, a strong steady thrum stemming from the catch of Poe's calluses on his clavicle. "Okay," he mouths, unstable air in his lungs not quite enough to brace the word with sound. And he isn't quite sure how but he _knows_ , same way he knows the cardinal directions, that Poe has stilled, that his breath has quieted and his expression has fixed into that scraped-raw wonderment he gets when looking at Finn, sometimes.

"Finn," Poe breathes, and his fingers twitch, and tentatively, like he can't help himself, his palm drifts up, slow as the movement of magma, till it rests over Finn's throat. His fingers curl around Finn's neck, just lightly, just holding him, and Finn swallows, this strange vulnerable thing rising from the depths of him in a whine. He tilts his head back, bares his neck further. " _Finn_ ," Poe repeats, and Finn feels Poe's weight as a wave overtop of him before Poe is everywhere, hand on Finn's neck and lips on Finn's lips and hips grinding down, their rib cages crashing together as Poe surges against him and gasps into his mouth. "You're so fucking beautiful, stars, Finn, you don't even know -"

There is an electric liquid rush flooding Finn's abdomen, reaching through his limbs till his fingers splay wide and his toes curl, and Finn, when Poe moves to kiss the inward dip of flesh between jaw and ear, fumbles for words that will stoke the heat-hungry, desirous tension he can feel ridged beneath Poe's skin. "Show me," he tries, mind spinning wildly through the gape of darkness, the sensations, the sense of security neither of those should bring. He can't _do_ anything. He can't do anything but let Poe take care of him. "I want - I want you to show me."

And Poe shudders, Poe drags his lips over Finn's cheek to bite at an already kiss-swollen mouth till Finn moans and he can lick his way inside. "Yeah." The word passes from Poe's tongue to Finn's, and for the length of a heartbeat the kiss hardens, becomes something of a demand. Ever so slightly, the fingers around Finn's neck tighten before Poe's hand is tracing its way over Finn's chest, dipping a fingertip into his navel then cupping his cock. " _Yeah_ , sweetheart, just like that," Poe says when Finn chokes then gasps, and his voice - it's boiling in his chest, coming out a lust-rough rumble and Finn's hips jerk at that as much as they do the heady, deliberate pressure of Poe's palm. "Just like that, you're fucking perfect."

A small, hidden part of Finn flinches at that statement, the surety with which it was said, because he hasn't - he's not -

The wide void of black surrounding him becomes angular in nature, the world that has been reduced to him and Poe and their bed grows just enough to let something else slink in, and -

"Hey." The word is clipped, Poe grasping Finn's jaw with one hand as he rubs Finn's cock through his pants with the other. "You're with me, right now, yeah?" A quick kiss, a slight shake that sends a thrill skittering under Finn's ribs with how - how _presumptuous_ it is. "You're with me, you're gonna take what I give you, yeah?"

"Yeah," Finn echoes, then: " _yeah_ ", Poe's hand drawing back just enough to yank at Finn's fly before it wraps around his cock. And Poe's hands are just a little bit bigger than Finn's, a little rougher from years of guiding ships through stars, and when Poe pulls back Finn's foreskin and thumbs at the slit of his cock it sends a streamlined bolt of stickysweet heat down the shaft and through his groin. It's still so new, so almost-strange, the inner clench of pleasure, the pressure in his dick and balls, the flutter of pelvic muscles that Finn can control as much as he can control the rocking of his hips and the flex of his feet. "Poe, oh, Poe, I -"

Poe hums, a satisfied sound, and Finn feels it in his jaw, feels the sweep of Poe's breath over his skin as Poe noses at Finn's cheek, tucks his face into the crook of Finn's neck to nip at his collarbone. "Mm _hmm_ , darling, I'm gonna make you feel so good."

This he croons to the stretch of Finn's solar plexus, legs rearranging and weight shifting and Finn gasps loud and ragged when Poe bites his nipple, once and gentle before he ghosts down to the open parabola of Finn's ribs. "Gonna suck you first," he mumbles, kissing the soft slope where ribs fade into stomach, "then I'm gonna fuck you with my fingers," he breathes as he scrapes his teeth over the divot of Finn's navel, "then I'm gonna fuck you with my cock till you're crying for it."

He's crouched between Finn's thighs, now, hands on Finn's hips and Finn flushes when Poe leans in and - and _nuzzles_ Finn's groin, breathing deep and moaning. "You smell so good, babe."

"Poe," Finn stammers, voice arching high and thready and he presses his hips back into the mattress, away from Poe's mouth.

"No, nope, hey," Poe says, voice syrupy and hot. The hands on Finn's hips tighten, brace against the shy retreat of his body as Poe kisses the expanse of skin between the waistline of his pants and his navel. "You're gonna take what I give you, Finn, that's how this works."

The reminder makes the air catch and fold over in Finn's lungs, and the idea of - of just _taking_ it, just giving himself over to it, makes an amorphous, intoxicating swell unfurl inside him. He stutters over bitten-off syllables when Poe tucks his face between Finn's legs and breathes in again, and this time he stifles the instinctual, embarrassed urge to flinch back.

"Good _boy_ , staying still for me." Poe's words drift over Finn's cock as heat and air and the slightest catch of flesh on flesh, and Finn bites his lip when he feels Poe's mouth hover over the head of his dick. "Fuck, you taste better, though. You always taste fucking amazing."

And then there is heat and suction and pressure and Finn shouts as his hips slip free of the control he'd kept them under. He'd have thrust up if Poe wasn't positioned in such a way that the weight of his hands keeps Finn pinned to the mattress, and the energy redirects itself to his legs, which bend around Poe's shoulders. "Oh _stars_ , Poe, oh _fuck_ , I - I -"

He's stuttering, gasping and moaning as Poe's tongue traces circles on the shaft and Poe's throat flutters around the head and Poe _sucks_ , his cheeks all warm and wet and surrounding Finn's cock with heady, rhythmic movement. Then Poe hums approvingly, and Finn's throat closes around a high whine, his hands reaching automatically to tangle in Poe's hair except he _can't_ , they're lashed to the bedframe and all he can do is take this. " _Poe_."

The sound when Poe pulls off makes Finn shudder, makes him want with something ravenous to see Poe's lips, reddened and puffy and beautiful, Finn doesn't know how Poe can think of anyone else he comes across as beautiful when he inhabits the body he does. Poe noses the hair at the base of Finn's cock, slides his hands down to the top of Finn's pants and hooks his fingers inside, making soft soothing noises when Finn's thighs clamp around him in an visceral, illogical bid to keep him from leaving.

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart, I just wanna get these off of you," Poe murmurs, kissing Finn's knee, nuzzling his thigh. "Lift your hips up for me, that's it, you're so _good_ , yeah," and then he is carefully working Finn's legs free, fingers brushing ankles as he slides cuffs then length then waistline off and away and before Finn's nakedness can translate into fear he's back, shoulders a familiar and comforting weight between Finn's legs.

He swallows Finn down again, taking him deeper than Finn could the few times he's tried blowing Poe, and Finn's back arches, his arms yank against the rope, his legs splay wide when he feels the head of his cock slide into the spasming hot place at the back of Poe's throat. Poe inhales, long and slow, then relaxes into it, fucking his mouth onto Finn's dick and Finn can't see it but he can _feel_ it, can feel every minutiae of lips and tongue and spit that drips down his balls.

"Please," he rasps, word mangled by the moans and sighs that rise from his chest in continuous, lust-addled lurches.

Poe hums once more, one hand sliding under Finn to cup his ass as the other sweeps across the rumpled sheets, searching. A jerk of want tightens his belly when Finn realizes what Poe is searching for, and the tongue licking up the side of his cock isn't entirely enough to distract him from the anticipatory tension that builds in his belly when he hears the pop of an open cap.

A dry fingertip passes over his hole in one exploratory sweep, Poe dragging his mouth away to kiss the hollow that joins hip and leg. "Gonna finger you open for me," he mumbles, and his voice is _wrecked_ , his voice is roughened from Finn's _cock_.

"Yes, please, yeah, Poe," Finn babbles, and the finger retreats only to return slicked up and slippery and Poe traces a slow circle around the rim, almost breaching him several times and pulling on the ring of muscle instead. That - being touched there, taking something _inside_ , it's still foreign and edges unsettling and he wants it so badly, the strange internal pressure and heat and stretch that comes with it. He wants to feel Poe from the inside out. "Just do it, I want to feel you, I want you inside, please -"

Poe makes a noise like he's been gutted, and Finn feels him press his forehead to Finn's hip and breath, a shuddering deep breath. "Finn. Sweetheart."

Then the pressure, then the relentless slow push forward past the clench and flutter of muscle, and Finn writhes when Poe immediately curls his finger up toward the distended bump Finn never notices until it's touched. " _Oh_ ," and that was a shout, that was too loud for the thin walls of the barrack they're in, but Finn can't care about anything beyond Poe and the feeling of Poe and the pleasure Poe is giving him. " _Please_ , stars, I - I - _Poe_."

"Yeah," Poe mumbles, adjusting his weight and suddenly the force behind the movement of his wrist increases. "Yeah, babe, you're so fuckin' gorgeous, opening up for me, you're so godsdamned pretty, fuck."

The slipstream of roiling words is almost as good as the repetitive curl and thrust of Poe's finger, and Finn gasps, bares his neck, tries to encourage it with coherence that is quickly, strategically being rubbed from him.

"You like it when I talk, don't you," Poe croons, and Finn nods, his hands trying instinctually to reach for Poe only to be caught by the rope, again and again and there will be bruises, probably. There will be proof of what Poe did for him. "You like it when I tell you how pretty your hole looks taking me inside, huh? It's fucking beautiful, you're so fucking beautiful, stretched out for me, lying back and letting me do what I want with you."

That phrase brushes up against the pitch-black pit of satisfaction Finn tries on most days to ignore, what with how close it sits to fear and anger and other less satisfying things, and he whimpers, bites his lip to muffle it. Poe makes a displeased little sound and adds a second finger, almost _purring_ when that forces Finn's mouth to open wide around the moan it prompts.

"Fuck _yeah_ , darling, you take it so good for me. I could keep you like this for hours, couldn't I? You'd let me, you'd lie back and let me keep you open and on the edge for as long as I fucking wanted." This is accompanied by a twist of his wrist and his fingers spreading out as he drags them down along Finn's insides, and Finn whines, limbs twitching as he grinds his hips into the stretch. "Maybe next time, hmm? Maybe next time I'll tie you up and lick you open and eat you out until you're _begging_ for my cock."

Finn makes a noise then, a ragged half-torn noise, and Poe's voice falters, his fingers still as his body tenses.

"Green," Finn mumbles, "I - yeah, okay, yeah." He thinks - yeah. He thinks he might like that. If they try it. "I'd take anything you want me to."

A sudden sharp inhale, and then Finn feels Poe's lips on his thigh, feels Poe's soft, oddly pleading sound skirt over his skin. " _Finn_ , stars, you don't know what you do to me."

And there's only one thing to say to that.

"Show me," Finn sighs, letting his thighs fall open and circling his hips because he's ready for another finger, he's ready for Poe.

"Sweetheart," Poe breathes, stretching out to kiss Finn hard and hungry as he eases a third finger inside. Now there is the prickle of expansion trickling through his bowels, up his spine, stoking the smouldering heat in the base of his cock, and Finn shivers when Poe adds more lube, the slick making drag-push of his fingers more delicious. "I love fingering you, I love how you feel inside. I could get off on this, just you stretching around me."

A small sound of protest slips from Finn's lips, because Finn wants - Poe's fingers are good, he likes this, but he wanted to feel Poe hot and thick inside him, changing him, re-shaping him with every thrust. He likes clenching down and feeling Poe up to his throat, he likes feeling so full it shies close to too much.

"Shhh, hey, don't worry, that's not for today," Poe murmurs. "Today I'm gonna fuck you, fill you up with my cock and make you come on it. Like the sound of that?"

Finn nods, turning his head in the direction of Poe's voice and is rewarded with a kiss, messy and wild and Poe bears down on him like he wants to consume Finn entirely. Another push on his prostate, wider and harder now, and Finn keens, tries to surge into it. Poe hushes him, pets Finn's stomach as he curls and twists and spreads his fingers, again and again until every breath Finn takes is ragged and he feels full and heavy with the warmth of his own pleasure.

"Please," he says, knows that something satisfied and just this side of domineering is in Poe's eyes, now. Knows from the quality of the air, knows from the movement of the fingers inside him, knows from the taste of Poe's breath as he pants in Finn's ear.

"Please what?" and the question isn't surprising, the sudden forceful thrust of Poe's wrist and the fierce tone of his voice isn't surprising. "Please _what_ , darling, what do you want?"

"Want you to fuck me," Finn moans, it's call-and-response and _this_ , the thick blurry wave of something eager and sensitive overtaking his nerves, _this_ is what he wanted. "Want your cock, please, please fuck me."

The words come easier, now that he's being swallowed up in that syrupy-sweet heat, and he rolls his head, his spine becoming loose and unstrung as he tries to spread his legs further. "Want to feel you open me up, I just - I just want you to _have_ me, I just want you to - to fuckin' -"

It's stupid and ill-fitting and should be incongruous, how Finn's voice rasps into a sob at the end, but Poe just hums something soothing and kisses him slow and deep and gentle, lips moving against lips with this surety Finn craves with a need sharper than hunger. "Okay, Finn, okay, yeah, I'm gonna give it to you, I'm gonna have you, don't worry, I'm gonna -"

He breaks away and for several dizzyingly terrifying moments there is no body-heat along Finn's side, there are no hands on his skin, and a strangled wordless thing crawls out of his mouth. It's the lurch of free-fall, it's waking up to sun and sand and realizing that only one survived the crash, it's a great wide void opening up inside his gut, and Finn keens, breath catching and tearing his lungs apart until -

" _Sweetheart_ , hey, sorry, I'm sorry, I'm right here," Poe murmurs against Finn's lips, the weight of his body flooding Finn's again as he leans in and rubs soothing circles into Finn's ribs. "I'm not gonna leave you, I'm right here, I'm gonna take care of you."

Poe's hands glide down his ribs to his hips to his thighs, where warm hands lift then spread then -

"Ah," Finn gasps at the blunt press of the head of Poe's cock against his hole. It's always - he always thinks three fingers is a comparable thickness, a comparable stretch and heat, but he's always proven wrong at this first push inward. "Poe, please -"

"Too fast?" Poe stops, and Finn can feel Poe's thighs under his body and Poe's hands on his waist and the swollen tip of Poe's cock and Finn whines, shaking his head.

"Just fuck me, just do it, just - oh, _oh_ , fuck." Finn bites back a howl at the first thrust of Poe's hips, at the gratifying burn as Poe forces his way inside. It's a few more thrusts until Poe's hips are flush against Finn's ass, a few more thrusts in which Finn holds himself still and swallows back the sounds because he wants to remember this, wants to remember the scratch of Poe's pants zipper on his lower back, the drip of Poe's sweat from his forehead to Finn's chest, the sharp prick of Poe's nails as his hands clench in arrhythmic pulses.

Finn is so _full_. He can feel it, the occupation of space normally left hollow, feels it in his belly and his cock and in the flutter and throb of his pelvic muscles.

Then Poe starts to fuck him proper. They shouldn't be so sensitive, his insides, it doesn't make sense that he has so many _nerves_ there, but he feels the catch and drag of every inch as Poe pulls back, feels the sudden fullness all the more keenly when Poe pushes forward.

"Yeah?" Poe asks when Finn moans, when Poe picks up his hips and starts thrusting in earnest. "Yeah? You fucking like this, don't you, being full of me, taking my cock. And you take it so _good_ , babe, you take it like you were made for me."

Finn opens his mouth as something in him jerks at Poe's words, a hungry fragile piece that only manages to show itself when they're doing this. Nothing but a breath-starved rasp comes out, but Poe has the words he doesn't, Poe knows what he isn't saying.

"You like being mine, you like having no choice but to be mine for a little while." Poe's voice is hitched with the movement of his body, strained with pleasure, and he leans in to press his forehead to Finn's as he hunches forward and somehow manages to thrust harder, faster, till all that exists is Poe's voice and Poe's cock and the sensation of Poe's body over Finn's. "Because you know I'll take care of you, huh? You know I just wanna take care of you, like this, when you let me."

There is a thrum in Finn's throat he is only just now realizing is sound, a name, Poe's name, repeated in time with the rocking of their bodies, and the pleasure is growing and growing and expanding outward from his bowels to fill the rest of his body. Poe gulps in air and braces himself up with a forearm Finn can sense beside his shoulder, and then a hand is wrapped around Finn's cock, jacking him to the rhythm of Poe's thrusts.

"C'mon, Finn, c'mon, let me see it, come for me, babe, I know you want to come for me," Poe is breathing in his ear, thumbing over the head of Finn's cock and a callus catches on the weeping slit and -

Finn's spine bends into an arch as he clenches down on Poe, the internal pressure liquefying and seeping into his muscles in one bright-white rush that shatters him and re-builds him all at once. Outside of himself, he has a vague sense of Poe stiffening against him, of Poe pressing his mouth to Finn's neck and shuddering, and Finn squeezes his insides to better feel the twitch of Poe's cock as it comes.

"-Finn, Finn, fuck, Finn, love you, fuck, _fuck_ ," Poe is gasping into his ear when Finn floats out of the warm dark swell that cocooned him.

He can't say it back yet, those words, because he isn't sure if he feels them and he isn't sure if he'd be able to tell if he did, but hearing Poe's voice break over the syllables makes him sigh and turn his head just enough to taste them on Poe's lips.

"You - I," he starts groggily, because they're supposed to talk, after. Because it feels like he should say something.

"Mm, it's okay," Poe breathes, slumps over Finn for barely a heartbeat before he's easing himself up. "Let me undo the blindfold and shit. You did great. You were wonderful."

Gentle fingers fiddle at the back of his head, the fabric lifting away with a quiet warning about the light.

And then all Finn sees is Poe, and he is beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> please feed the author it means so much to me fam
> 
> also is fandom still a place where you can ask for a volunteer beta in the author's notes? i'm having some issues iwth the sequel to we are all stardust so


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